Page 57 of The Start of Something Wonderful

‘Like?’ asks Rachel.

‘Some place where you learn surprising new things about yourself, and find yourself opening up to new challenges.’

‘Like?’ repeats Rachel.

‘Like, I can rustle up a mean pasta sauce now, I can speak a bit of Italian, and I can make a palm tree out of balsa wood, should you ever need one for your next Hawaiian fancy dress party.’

‘And any Daniel Craigs or George Clooneys we shouldknow about?’ asks Wendy, refilling our glasses, a cheeky glint in her eye.

‘Nope. I wouldn’t go out with an actor anyway.’

‘Okay. Any Gino D’Acampos then?’

I look at them nonplussed.

‘Knew it!’ she squeals, throwing her hand up in the air and spilling her champagne.

‘Don’t get excited. He’s just a friend,’ I say defensively. ‘We haven’t exchanged phone numbers or … anything.He teaches me Italian, that’s all. Besides, I’m not the girl I was. I actually like being on my own and don’t need a man in my life. Now, enough of me. What about you and Randy, the Action Man?’

‘Dating disaster.’

‘Oh, why can’t love be like in the movies?’ says Céline longingly. ‘You don’t know just how lucky you are, Rachel – to have met and married the man of your dreams so young.’

‘Hah! He’s no romantic Mr Darcy or Heathcliff,’ she replies, ‘but he’s my best friend. I don’t know how I’d have got through the last few years without him. I’ve only ever had one boyfriend though, and from time to time I do wonder how life would have panned out if I hadn’t settled down so early on.’

‘No point wonderingwhat if,’ says Wendy. ‘The way to happiness isn’t necessarily aboutbreaking all ties and travelling thousands of miles to Bali or India on some self-discovery pilgrimage, like inEat, Pray, Love.The person sitting next to you at home may well be holding the key. I think what I’m trying to say, is that the grass isn’t always greener.’

‘Yeah. When we are young, we assume that there will be plenty of people out there in this big, wide world with whom we’llconnect – and I meantrulyconnect,’ says Faye, opening another bottle. ‘But we ladies who – for want of a better phrase,have been round the block a few times –no, let me finish – we can tell you that it doesn’t happen very often – and in some cases, never.’

‘True,’ says Wendy wistfully.

‘We’re so busy proving to the world how capable and independent we are, that we can overlook thevery thing that could bring us lasting happiness,’ continues Faye.

‘But perhaps we all expect too much from life,’ says Céline. ‘La vie est compliquée.’

‘If life were easy it would be boring and we wouldn’t grow and develop,’ I chip in.

‘Anyway, girls,’ says Rachel, excitement bubbling over in her voice. ‘I wanted to wait until we were all together to sharemynews.’

We look atone another, not daring to hope.

Having been given a thirty per cent chance of conceiving after her breast cancer treatment, we are careful to avoid baby talk in Rachel’s company.

It’s one thing being childless because, like me, you never met the right man (call me old-fashioned, but I only wanted a baby if it came complete with a hands-on dad), but to have found your Mr Right early on,for you both to want a family, to have so much to offer a child, and then because of some cruel twist of fate, to be denied that life-enhancing opportunity, seems to me to be so unfair.

Drawing a deep breath, she looks at us all in turn, sparkly-eyed.

‘What?’ says Wendy. ‘Spit it out!’

‘Dave and I are adopting a baby girl from the orphanage in India!’

There’s a gobsmacked silencewhile the news sinks in, then we all start whooping and punching the air, doing a kind of demented tribal dance in the sand, which attracts some worried looks from loved-up couples out for a romantic seaside stroll.

Life sometimes has a funny way of working out, doesn’t it? I’m learning that while you must be determined, you can want somethingtoomuch, which can make you frustrated and crosswhen you don’t get it, which in turn, sends out the wrong message. If you loosen your grip but maintain a positive focus, the thing you want will come and find you eventually; maybe not exactly in the way you imagined, but it will find you nonetheless.

Does all this make sense? Too much champagne has a tendency to bring out my philosophical side, or are these just the hare-brained ramblingsof an inebriated woman?

I look up at the sky and think of that wee girl, some four thousand miles away in Delhi, totally unaware of how much her life is about to change.

Orion and The Bear are shining brightly tonight. I wonder if Francesco is gazing at them too.

---